


45. Welcome home

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [45]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:29:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4566393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings for verbal humiliation and semen ingestion</p>
    </blockquote>





	45. Welcome home

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for verbal humiliation and semen ingestion

It's late and Antony's exhausted but his blood's still humming at the thought of seeing Stephen. Despite the opportunities to relieve some tension during his two weeks away, he's held out, wanting only his boy. Of course, it's not all about the sex. He wants his lover, his boyfriend, wants to see and touch and talk to Stephen. But right now, this late, after two weeks apart, yeah, it's about the sex. It's about sliding his cock into his boy's tight ass and fucking _filling_ him with his seed. Marking him. Claiming him. Christ. He pulls into the building's underground parking, parks in his spot, grabs his bag from the backseat and heads for the elevator.

Stephen knows Antony is on his way home...just not exactly _when_. So when he'd gotten in from work he'd fixed himself dinner, plated up some easy finger food for later, and then taken some time in the bathroom. He'd cleaned himself inside and out, just stopping short of prepping - seen as that's one of Antony's 'things', and pulled on some light black sweat pants. Now he's curled up on the couch, a glass of iced water in one hand, a book in the other as he waits...

There's nothing like having a penthouse, or the private elevator that goes with it. Antony bypasses the lobby and the other floors and in an instant he's in the foyer to their place. He unlocks the door, pushes it open and drops his bag inside.

The moment he hears the door open, Stephen's on his feet, book discarded. "Tony!" he calls out as he pads barefoot toward the door, already trembling at the thought of having his lover, his Sir back again. It's been a long two weeks.

Antony meets Stephen halfway, almost colliding with him, pushing him back up against the nearest wall, his mouth already on his boy's, hot and hungry. Everything he's felt over the time they've been apart poured into that kiss.

 _Oh fuck!_ Stephen finds himself pressed up against the wall, his Sir's hard body making contact as soon as his mouth does. The kiss is desperate, heated, full of restrained want. And Stephen returns it in spades. His hands pluck at the edge of Antony's shirt, pulling it free so he can press his fingers, his hands to warm, hard flesh, nails lightly scoring as he grinds back.

"I missed you," Antony breathes, in case it's not clear, one hand dropping to shove already at Stephen's sweats. His other hand cupping the back of Stephen's neck, palm laid over the chain collar, _his_ collar. "So fucking much," he grits out, stroking his boy's hip, his ass, pulling at his cheek, fingers dipping into his cleft. His cock aching, the hard ridge straining between them.

"As much as I missed you," Stephen groans. "Tony...Sir..." he tries to push at his lover. "Take me to bed... Sir... please... let me be home," he rambles, pressing his mouth along Antony's jaw. "Let me show you home."

 _Fuck._ It takes every ounce of control Antony can muster to pull back, to give his boy what he wants. After all, it's probably time he do more than just ravage Stephen the moment he sees him. "You'd better get in there then," he says, voice low, eyes dark.

He pulls Antony by the wrist, his sweat pants barely hanging off his hips, the moment they are through the doorway to their bedroom Stephen's working on stripping Antony of his clothes, pressing messy, hungry kisses to skin as he exposes it.

Antony groans, head going back as he loses himself in the feel of his boy's mouth. "Oh, god..." Hands flexing as he resists the urge, for a moment longer, to just grab Stephen and push him down...

"You're so hot... so fucking gorgeous," Stephen mumbles into skin. He seeks out one tight nipple, sucking on it before biting down, hoping desperately it will shred the very last of his Sir's control.

"Oh, fuck," Antony grits out, his hands on Stephen in an instant, pushing him back onto the bed, his boy's ankles hooked over his shoulders as he reaches for the lube. "I'm gonna breed your ass, boy," he says softly, voice thick with arousal, his cock already dripping. "Fuck you so hard..."

"Yes! Please, please use your fuck toy, your boy is so desperate to be used, to be bred... please Sir..." Stephen growls out, reaching down to cup his own ass cheeks to pull them apart exposing his hole fully.

Cock slicked with lube, Antony pours some along his boy's crack, two fingers pushed inside, opening him quickly, roughly, before they're replaced with his cock, the head popping through the first tight ring of muscle. _Jesus Christ...._

Stephen's shoulders press back into the bed as his body tightens with pain. "Oh! Fuck! Sir... Easy... please... please!" He suddenly finds himself gulping in air to make himself relax, to bear down, to let his Sir in... but it's been two weeks since he last took this...

Antony eases up. A little. Slowly but steadily pushing in. The tight heat and his boy's pain spiking his arousal. But the tension's there, coiled, just waiting for that slight give...

Stephen closes his eyes, and concentrates on relaxing, reminding himself over and over how good this is... how much he wants this... The tension bleeds away, and suddenly his Sir can move inside him, and Stephen lets out a long low sound of pleasurepain.

"That's it, boy. Let me in," Antony urges, hips pushing deeper until he's all the way in, every last fraction of an inch taken.

"Oh! Yeah...that's...thank you," Stephen's hands are playing up and down Antony's arms, stroking, petting. "Thank you Sir..."

Bracing himself, Antony draws out to the head, rocking his hips, teasing the first inch in and out before he slams deep again.

That action punches a strangled noise from Stephen, his head tilts back against the bed, baring his throat, his collar, for his Sir. His fingers tighten on Antony's arms, fingers pressing in hard enough to bruise. "Oh fuck...please...Sir, breed your boy, breed his cunt..."

Any control Antony has left dissolves with those words. He drives into Stephen like a man possessed, fucking him hard and fast and deep. Cock plunged into his hole, his cunt, over and over, until he comes with a strangled shout, emptying his load into his boy. Panting, he drops down for a kiss, then orders, "Down my throat, boy," before moving back to take Stephen's cock into mouth, sucking him as hard and fast as he fucked him.

Stephen's left spinning, Antony's orgasm had been intense, visceral, but before he can savour it he's kissed; a messy press of mouths and then Sir is growling an order at him and his cock is... "Oh..oh!" Stephen's eyes roll and he yells out as his Sir works his dick. It takes no time at all...before Stephen's keening, his abs scrunched tight as he bows up, his dick pulsing down his Sir's throat.

Keeping a small mouthful of come, Antony pushes up again and drops down for another kiss, Stephen's own come fed back to him.

He slides his arms around his Sir, and kisses him back, the slick slide of his own spunk coating their tongues, a dirty, perfect end to an intense fuck. Using one foot he hooks it around Antony's leg and pulls him in as tight as he can.

"I missed you," Antony says softly, again, staring down into his boy's eyes. "But I wore my tags and ring the whole time. Carried you with me."

That statement makes Stephen's heart squeeze, he smiles back, wide and bright, reaching up to trace his fingertips along Antony's brow. "That pleases me," he murmurs, "to know I was with you..." He takes a moment to study his lover, taking in the dark smudges beneath his eyes, the tension still present in his expression. "Are you okay? You look so tired."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Exhausted but good," Antony says. "Although I got pretty banged up this time around," he mentions, twisting a little to show Stephen his back - the right side of which is completely black and blue.

"Fuck!" Now Stephen's pushing Antony off, so he can disentangle himself. "Let me see that," he demands, all the lassitude from their sex replaced by worry. He lets his finger play over the deep bruises. "Did you get checked out?" his face a picture in concern.

"Yeah." Antony nods, wincing as Stephen touches him. "One of our guys is a medic. It's just really bad bruising, hurts like a bitch."

"Do you promise me this was looked at properly?" Stephen leans in to catch Antony's gaze. "This guy's a properly trained medic, not some ex army guy with a first aid kit?"

"He was a combat medical technician with the army. Class one," Antony says, trying to allay Stephen's worries. "He checked me out, kept an eye on me until he was sure everything was fine. And he would've made me see someone if there was anything to worry about. I promise."

"Hmm," Stephen makes a not entirely happy noise at that. It's just enough for him not to ask his lover to go to a hospital right now and get looked over. He slips off the bed and pulls back the covers on one side. "C'mon, get in. I'll be right back." He waits until Antony has settled himself before he disappears, first to the bathroom to clean up, then the kitchen. He lays up a tray with the finger food he's prepared earlier, pours Antony a double scotch and a single for himself and carries all back into the bedroom.

Antony smiles when he sees Stephen with the tray. "This is quite the welcome home," he says, reaching for his drink and taking a good sip, the long flight and the fact that he's here, where he can really relax, can let every last bit of tension drain away, finally getting to him.

"Well, if I had an exact time, I'd have had a bath run, a scotch already waiting and the bed turned down," Stephen grins, peeling the food wrap off the plate and offering that to his Sir. He climbs back up on the bed and sits cross legged. "But then I prefer your version of 'hey how are you'."

"Me too," Antony responds with a grin, digging into the food like a man starving.

Stephen watches his lover clear the plate, sipping his own whiskey as he does. "Do you want any more?" he asks, amused. He can tell how sore Antony is by how he's holding himself, and his worry doesn't really lessen.

"No, thanks. I'm good," Antony says, leaning back against the pillows, scotch in hand. "Food was awful on the plane though and Marcus snores, so between those two things..." he laughs, shaking his head then winces again. Fuck. He's only getting more sore but it's just bruising, deep bruising.

"Is there anything I can put on that? Some analgesia gel or something?" Stephen's frowning again as he takes the plate from Antony and sets it on the tray which he then moves from the bed. "You're not going to sleep particularly well if you keep rolling onto to that."

"Sure. There should be something in the medicine cabinet," Antony says, willing to let Stephen take care of him, especially with how tired he's feeling. "But I was planning on spooning you. Keep off this side completely," he adds with a smile. But... "Maybe bring me a couple percocet too?"

"I'm more than happy for you to spoon me all night, but the chances are you'll be fidgeting around a little." Stephen clambers off the bed, and makes his way to the bathroom, returning minutes later with a tube of gel and a bottle of pills. "Here," he offers the bottle to his lover and perches on the edge of the bed.

Antony washes the percocet down with scotch and then shifts so Stephen can get at his back.

"Do I even want to know how this happened?" Stephen asks softly as he smears the gel over the bruising, wincing whenever Antony does. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Antony says, hissing in a pained breath. "I fell, landed the wrong way," he explains with a chuckle. "Landed _on_ something. It was stupid really." Never mind the fact that he was busy getting one of his crew out of a sticky situation.

"Hmmm, well I'm not impressed, you'd kick my ass if I came home bruised like this," Stephen pauses to lean in and press a kiss to the nape of Antony's neck, the little beads of the dog tag chain warm against his lips. "But thank you for coming home in one piece."

"I know my boy," Antony says, smiling over his shoulder. "I wouldn't dare do anything else."

"But you think this is okay?" Stephen mock-growls, poking Antony in his (un-bruised) side. "Any more than this and I'd be having words with Marcus."

"It wasn't his fault," Antony points out, trying not to laugh since he's fairly sure that wouldn't go over well.

"I don't care, he's supposed to be your right hand, isn't part of that having your back?" Stephen straightens up and puts the lid back on the tube. "There."

"Yes, but it doesn't always work that way," Antony says. "One of our guys was in trouble and I stepped in." He turns, pulling Stephen closer. "I've been doing this a long time. Sometimes I get hurt. But I know how to judge things and I wouldn't have risked something more than this."

"Well, you're going to have to suck up me getting a bitch over it. It's the first time I've been here when you've come home, and you turn up like this, and you'd soon sulk if I didn't fuss." Stephen slips an arm around Antony's neck. "I know you're in a rough game, and I know you can take care of yourself, but it doesn't stop me worrying. You're my man, it's my job."

"Fair enough," Antony allows with a smile and a kiss, the words warming him. "I hate to do this, but I'm going to have to crash. You coming with?"

"Where else would I be? You've been gone two fucking weeks," Stephen rolls his eyes. "Let me clear the plate and glasses away, get yourself settled and I'll be back."

Antony makes a quick trip to the bathroom then slips under the covers. His own bed feels really fucking good after two weeks of roughing it and it doesn't take too long to find a position where his back doesn't bother him too much.

Flipping lights off as he goes Stephen's smiling as he crawls into bed beside his lover. "It's so good to have you home Tony," he murmurs, reaching out he strokes over Antony's cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too," Antony returns with a smile, tilting his head into that touch. "It was really good knowing you were here to come home to."

"Hmmm," Stephen hums happily. "C'mon, close your eyes, sleep, I'm right here." He fusses, pulling the covers up around himself, snuggling as close as he can, then settles, he seeks out Antony's hand and entwines their fingers, content with that touch.


End file.
